Search For The Allspark
by HardyGal
Summary: Post-Predacons Rising AU. Optimus Prime prepares to go on an extended voyage to search for the Allspark. With a small crew consisting of Prowl, Perceptor, Wheeljack, Red Alert, Ambulon, and Smokescreen, Optimus begins his quest. [CHAPTER ONE REWRITE COMPLETE. YOU MAY NOW READ, AND PLEASE REVIEW]


**A/N HardyGal: Hello everyone, and thank you for waiting patiently as my sister and I rewrote the first chapter of Search for the Allspark. To those of you who are only reading this fanfiction now, you are lucky that you didn't have to read the original version of this fanfic. It was pretty bad. Anyway, I've kept you guys waiting long enough, so enjoy!**

Chapter One

It was a peaceful morning on Cybertron. The sun glinted off of the planet's ruins - the decimated buildings, the blocked off roads, and the rusty statues of bots from time long gone. In spite of these ruins, anyone standing there would have sensed the promise of a new and peaceful era, and been enamored by it.

Anyone standing nearby the roads however, would have seen this peace shattered as a blue and yellow sports car sped down the relatively repaired roads, engines roaring and tires squealing with every turn. No one else was on this road though, and thus the sports car held nothing back. With the chilled air cycling through his vents, he felt breathless - so to speak - with excitement. But it wasn't only the speed that made his spark flutter excitedly. It was where he was speeding to that made his processor reel with excitement; for Elite Guard Smokescreen was one of seven Cybertronians set to launch on a voyage to find the Allspark, an ancient and powerful relic that had been launched off of Cybertron during the later vorns of the Great War.

A lot had happened during the months following Unicron's defeat at the servos of Optimus Prime and his handful of Autobots. More and more bots - Decepticons, Autobots, and neutrals - were coming back to Cybertron. Ruins were being rebuilt at a rapid pace thanks to some of the new arrivals. Roads were being repaired, and though they were largely empty, everyone knew that wouldn't be the case for long. Meanwhile Unicron was trapped in a relic container, unable to do anything about it.

This relic container had been picked up by Optimus Prime during a much shorter voyage to search for the Allspark. Thinking that the life force was contained within, the Prime had brought the container back with him to Cybertron. He found out soon after that this was not the case. The container had been a decoy, in case the Decepticons ever went looking for it. At the very least it assisted greatly in the defeat of Unicron.

Now Optimus Prime was set to once again search the far reaches of space for the source of all Cybertronian life. But a longer voyage required a larger crew, and so Prime sent to call for five more volunteers to accompany himself and Wheeljack on his mission. Smokescreen was one of the first to answer that call, and with the time of the launch approaching, there was no way in Pit that Smokescreen was going to miss it.

The young bot accelerated, pressing the gas pedal as far as it could possibly go and forcing his speed dial higher. All of a sudden, a black and yellow Urbana 500 came zooming around the corner. Shouting in alarm, Smokescreen hit the break, skidding as he forced himself to slow down. The Urbana also skidded, his tires sending up smoke. Realizing that he was likely to crash long before he stopped, Smokescreen transformed, stumbling as his momentum continued to push him forward. Evidently having the same thought, the Urbana also transformed, and both mechs crashed into each other before falling backwards onto their skid plates.

"Woah, take it easy, Smokey!" Bumblebee exclaimed, quickly getting to his pedes and helping his comrade to his own. "We almost totaled each other there!"

"Sorry," Smokescreen apologized. "I didn't want to miss the launch."

"The launch isn't set to go for a few groons," Bumblebee pointed out. "You've got plenty of time to slow down a bit."

"Sure, but what if they decide to take off early? That justifies my speeding."

"I doubt they'd leave before the scheduled time, Smokes."

"You never know," Smokescreen said with a shrug. "But if you're right, that means you have plenty of time to change your mind. You sure you don't wanna come? The ship is named after you."

Raising an optic ridge, Bumblebee said wryly, "Since when was _the Axiom_ named after me?"

Smokescreen waved this away. "Other bots might call it _the Axiom_, but that's too much like the Ark. No, I say we name it _the Bumblebee_. After all, it's because of you the Allspark needs to be found in the first place, what with you stalling Megatron while it was being launched off planet and all."

The young warrior rubbed the back of his helm abashedly. "Yeah, sure. But I already played my part, Smokescreen. _The Axiom_ crew quota has been met, and I'm content with staying here and re-familiarizing myself with home. Besides," he added with a sigh. "Ultra Magnus is gonna need all the help he can get, what with Shockwave and Starscream still missing, and more and more bots coming home everyday. Oh, and Knock Out."

The two mechs laughed. Knock Out was just as much of a pain in the aft as an Autobot as he had been a Decepticon. Constantly he complained about the state of his new medical bay, from the lack of staff to the amount of patients to the general appearance of the place. It seemed all Ultra Magnus could do to not throw the red mech out of the window.

"But seriously," said Smokescreen, laughter petering down. "Are you sure you don't wanna come?"

"I'm sure. Oh, it's fine, Smokey," Bumblebee assured, playfully smacking his still doubtful comrade on the shoulder. "I had my fair share of learning from Optimus and the crew, and now it's your turn to learn something beyond what the Elite Guard taught you."

A loud rev cut into their conversation, and Smokescreen turned sharply. Roaring down the road at top speed, straight towards Smokescreen and Bumblebee, was a silver and red Cybertronian muscle car. Before Smokescreen could protest, the car transformed and the mech tackled him.

"You've _got_ to work on that reaction time, Smoke!" the mech said playfully, effectively pinning the younger bot beneath him.

"That wasn't fair!" Smokescreen retorted, struggling to get out from underneath his surrogate brother. "You snuck up on me!"

"My engines were practically screaming at you, kid!" Bluestreak countered. "I wasn't exactly being stealthy!"

Bumblebee took his time to laugh at the two tussling mechs, before deciding that he should probably play the responsible one. "Ok, guys, break it up," he said, grabbing Bluestreak's shoulder and pulling him off of Smokescreen. "Don't fight in the middle of the-"

Bluestreak responded by seizing Bumblebee's servo and kicking the smaller Autobot's pedes out from under him. Indignant, Bumblebee returned the uncalled for assault by tackling the sniper. Though Smokescreen attempted to intervene, he too was quickly pulled into the fight. A short tussle ensued between the three mechs before they finally settled down, each laughing at himself and his opponents.

As his laughter calmed and he dusted off his helm, Bluestreak turned to Smokescreen, saying, "Well, I found you, Smoke. So today is the big day, huh? Bet you can't wait to get to the launch. I was actually surprised to see you standing in the middle of the road. I was expecting to see you already on the ship, groons before the actual launch, which is understandable, considering how big a mission this must be for you. I mean, I don't know for sure because I don't know if you've been on any _bigger_ missions, but I just assume-"

"Yeah, I was actually on my way there now," Smokescreen cut in before the fast-talking bot could continue his rambling. "Just got a bit held up. 'Bee and I nearly caused a road accident."

"You _do_ realize that you're not gonna be able to drive at that speed anymore as more and more bots come back to Cybertron, right?" Bumblebee pointed out, winglets fluttering slightly so as to remove the dust that covered them.

"Well, yeah," said Smokescreen, the unspoken 'well, duh' clear in his vocals. "That's why I'm making the most of what little time I have to cut loose!"

Bluestreak playfully shoved the younger mech, saying, "Better hope that there are vehicle friendly terrains where you're going. And no speed limits."

"Oh, I hope!" Smokescreen jumped enthusiastically to his pedes. "But even if there aren't, I don't think I'll really care. I mean, this is deep space we're talking about, guys! And I'll be exploring it! On a quest to find the Allspark, no less."

"You also better hope Prowl doesn't tie a leash to that explorer-on-a-quest part of you," Bumblebee said wryly, also getting to his pedes.

Smokescreen let out a defeated groan. Bluestreak stood up to give the speedster an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "Look on the bright side, Smokey - you two can finally catch up! It's been a really long time since you two've hung out together! The last time you two saw each other was, what, before you joined the Elite Guard? I mean, I wasn't there, but Prowl told me a bit about it."

Smokescreen grimaced. "Yeah, we stopped contacting one another eventually. I mean, hey, his unit did a pretty good job of nurturing me, but beyond that Prowl never really seemed too..." He frowned, grasping for word. "…invested."

Bluestreak replied in a tone that made a mockery of seriousness. "Prowl is invested in every job he's given, Smokescreen. Even if it's raising a weird-aft upstart like you."

"Oh, shut up." Smokescreen glared, but his optics were smiling. "Hey, Blue," he said suddenly. "I was just asking 'Bee about this, but he turned me down. You wanna join the crew of _the Axiom_ and help secure the future of Cybertron?"

"Eh… sounds beyond awesome, but I'm gonna have to say no. I've kind of missed Cybertron, and there's no pressing need for me to go. Sorry kid." Smokescreen wilted, and Bluestreak clapped a servo on the young mech's shoulder, smile bright as ever. "I'll race you to the launchpad, though! If I'm not going with you, th' least thing I could do is tucker you out before handing you off to Prowl."

Smokescreen laughed, but his reply was interrupted by coughing as Bluestreak transformed and raced off, kicking up dust in his wake.

"Hey, no fair! You didn't say go!" Smokescreen leapt after him, wheels burning as soon as they hit the ground.

As Bumblebee waved the dust left in Smokescreen's wake away from his faceplates, he eyed the two racing Praxians with an appraising optic. As though coming to a decision, the young warrior smirked, transformed, and raced after them.

* * *

It felt absurdly poetic that, with so many ships returning to Cybertron, almost all found themselves eagerly awaiting the departure of one relatively small craft. Though obviously they would be praying for its return, so perhaps that nullified the poeticism of it all. Prowl pushed this odd thought aside with a flick of a sensory panel, putting another thought in its place: where was Smokescreen? The young Elite Guardsmech was nowhere to be seen.

Prowl frowned, casting his gaze about the crowd of newly returned Cybertronians milling around the launchpad. He spied Perceptor, who was making light, if slightly stilted conversation with Wheeljack. The latter was giving the ship a quick once-over before the launch, a preemptive action that Prowl found surprising considering the Wrecker's general behavior, but nonetheless he greatly approved of it. This left four out of seven crew members unaccounted for.

Prowl's optics narrowed, and he was about to step out and ask the two present crew members where Red Alert and Ambulon were, when the sound of three high-power engines reached his audio receptors. The black and white mech straightened, stoic gaze zeroing in on the alternate modes of Bluestreak, Smokescreen, and Bumblebee.

Smokescreen was in front, shouting warnings as he clipped through the crowd, which had parted to admit the speeding muscle cars as soon as the revving engines made themselves heard. Smokescreen made a beeline for the launchpad and transformed mere moments before he would have struck the side of it, obviously planning to vault or leap up onto the raised dais. Instead, Bluestreak tackled his legs and brought them both to the ground at Prowl's pedes.

Prowl took a step back as his fellow Praxians disentangled themselves and stumbled to a standing position. "What are you doing?" he demanded, measuring his tone carefully and expressing just the right amount of aloof disapproval.

Bluestreak scraped his servos over his dusty front with a laugh. "Sorry Prowl. I suppose we got a little too into the racing competition. Sorry not sorry I tackled you, Smoke."

Prowl spoke before Smokescreen could reply. "You shouldn't be racing at all. Especially you, Smokescreen. Should you be damaged in a crash, there is a possibility that you would have to be left behind."

A suitable threat, not too harsh nor soft, but enough to drag Smokescreen into a stiff parade rest. "Sorry not sorry, sir." Or perhaps too soft a threat after all. The younger mech offered Prowl a slightly lopsided grin, saying, "I was just getting myself ready for a little adventure is all."

"The 'adventure' will not begin for some time yet," Prowl pointed out, arching one optic ridge. "The ship does not take off for another groon, and unless we all die from an engine malfunction, the first orns of the trip will probably be quite boring."

Smokescreen vented heavily, falling out of parade rest to slouch dramatically. "You're no fun, Prowl! At least let me dream, huh?"

Prowl let the matter lie, turning to Bumblebee. "May I inquire as to how Ultra Magnus has recovered?" The mentioned mech was wholly repaired after his fairly recent battle with two Predacons, but still slightly unsteady on his pedes.

"He's doing good, sir," Bumblebee replied, smiling politely. "He expressed regret that he couldn't join us to see you all off."

Prowl nodded. "Give him my regards, then."

Meanwhile, as this was going on, an argument was taking place between two bots making their way through the crowd.

"I'm just saying that I don't see why I shouldn't spend my time making the medical bay more presentable," Knock Out said irritatedly. "No one wants their limbs replaced in a dark and dull room."

The red and white femme he was tailing replied, with some condescension, "Knock Out, no one wants _anything_ replaced with _you_ in a room, be it dark and dull or not."

"That's a bit presumptuous, don't you think?"

"Regardless, with more and more bots coming back to Cybertron, many bringing with them patients in urgent need of long-term medical attention, I say that our time is best spent attending to said patients. Not 'fashioning up' the med-bay."

"Pardon me, Red Alert, but who made _you_ head of the medical bay?" Knock Out demanded.

Red Alert turned on the persistent mech, servos on her hips. "I was trained by Ratchet, and have more experience as an Autobot medic. I daresay that is enough for my authority to precede yours."

Knock Out's faceplates broke into a malicious grin that could have been interpreted as a grimace. "Oh, so this a question of _backgrounds_ now?"

"My point was that as someone who has been an Autobot medical officer for far longer, I better understand our medical protocol and how our resources ought to be used," Red Alert said impatiently. "I don't care so much about your background more than I care about your medical experience and how you intend to utilize it now that you're an Autobot."

The scarlet medic crossed his arms with a roll of his optics. "Honestly, it's not as though I'm outright looking to dissect our patients. I simply want a cleaner area in which to operate. Maybe to up the morale of our patients, or something like that, right? Isn't that what you Autobots do?"

Red Alert scoffed. "_Now_ who's being presumptuous? Fine. Do whatever you want." The femme medic turned and stalked away, adding, "And when your patients start deteriorating, don't come calling me! I'll be too busy assisting in the search for the Allspark, as well as possibly dealing with my _own_ patients!"

Knock Out snarled and shouted after her, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You think you're so _perfect_! Agreeing to go search for the _Allspark_, and assisting in future of _Cybertron_! Meanwhile, _I'll_ be here slaving away in an unfit working environment!"

"Hello, Knock Out."

The scarlet mech's features pinched into a scowl as he turned towards the patchy red and white nurse standing behind him. "What is it, Ambulon?" Knock Out said in a long suffering tone, cocking a hip. "Can't you see I'm airing my grievances?" He smirked as though it were some sort of private joke.

Ambulon shook his head, rolling his optics. "You asked me to ask Beachcomber for interior design tips? I took the liberty of asking Rung as well, and he had a few pearls of wisdom." The blocky mech's voice oozed condescension.

Knock Out responded in kind. "I see. And what did Beachcomber say, pray tell? The suspense is killing me."

"I'd like to say something rude." Well that was honest. "But no, he said bright colors and, quote, 'happy decorations and furniture, so your patients smile with them'."

Knock Out touched his chin. "Hm, the bright colors sound good. But that last bit sounds like it came from a mech who does boosters. What did he expect, smiling-sun wall chronometers?"

"Well, you got your interior design advice. And just so we're clear, you can't order me to do something that isn't medically related."

"Can't or shouldn't?" Knock Out smirked. "Anyhow, that's all I need from you. Run along, right-leg, go back to whence you came." He waved a dismissive servo in the other's face.

Ambulon eyed him with what appeared to be impassiveness. "Don't act so high and mighty, Knock Out. 'From whence I came' also happens to be from whence you came. And between the two of us, I'm the only one searching for 'whence we came'." With a tight smile, Ambulon sidestepped the former 'Con and strode towards the launchpad.

"Oh, well who's acting all high and mighty _now_?" Knock Out shouted in annoyance.

While this conversation came to a close, another was being continued between two bots standing by the ship, though the word 'conversation' was applied loosely. Wheeljack made the occasional offhand comment, and Perceptor would reply with a clipped word or a scientific observation concerning said comment. All the while, neither bot even glanced at his companion - Wheeljack devoted the entirety of his attention to evaluating the ship, and Perceptor simply gazed over the crowd of Cybertronians surrounding the launchpad.

"So..." Wheeljack found himself running out of topics to fill the awkward silence that made itself known with every lull in the 'conversation'. "Ah, the sun's looking pretty good." The sun's looking good? Primus, his conversation skills were getting rusty.

Perceptor nodded once. "Cybertron's sun is a Class-K orange giant star. It is relatively young compared to other stars of its class and type, but is one of only twenty-seven whose systems developed and support sentient life. It's lifespan is predicted to be over forty billion vorns."

"Yeah, that's interesting." Wheeljack grimaced inwardly. "So have you visited the Predacon Plateau yet? I'd think a scientist like you would like to check out the bones that are still there."

"I have not. However, I did investigate Ratchet's Synthetic Energon formula. It's rather impressive to behold."

The ex-Wrecker rubbed the back of his helm. "Yeah, sure." Silence took over once again. Perceptor didn't look too affected, but for Wheeljack it was getting very awkward.

It finally became too much for the Wrecker, who turned on Perceptor with something close to frustration. "Okay look, are you feeling the tension in the air right now? Because I could cut it with my katana. We should talk."

"We are talking." Perceptor's one visible optic narrowed. "Unless you propose talking about previous events. In which case, no."

Wheeljack frowned. "Why not? Percy, I haven't seen you in ages. I heard you had some pretty good game against the 'Cons after I left."

"Do not call me Percy. I dislike the nickname."

The coldness of Perceptor's voice nearly had Wheeljack rearing back in surprise. But this surprise was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by a hard, almost annoyed scowl. "Okay, be that way. Y'know, if you're mad I got you wrecked Perceptor, you could just say it."

Perceptor stared at Wheeljack with a cold fury, before turning away sharply. As he stalked away, the scientist nearly bumped shoulders with Red Alert, who was just approaching the launch pad. Red Alert paused to stare after the sullen scientist, bemused.

"What's got him more uptight than usual?" she wondered aloud.

Wheeljack scoffed unsympathetically, rolling his optics. "Don't ask me. I barely know the guy. Fraggin' uptight stick-aft scientist…" He vented, and quickly changed the subject, vocals returning to their characteristic carefreeness. "So Doc, where's the nurse?"

"I last saw him, walking away from Knock Out in a huff." The femme rolled her optics with a wry smirk. "That arrogant slagger inspires a like reaction in most mechs he speaks with. Most femmes too," she muttered.

Prowl had eyed the entire scene between Wheeljack and Perceptor as it had played out, and now his optic ridges furrowed with some irritation. "Launch time is less than a groon," he muttered under his breath. "Perceptor should know better than to step away from the launchpad at this time."

Prowl stiffened when Bluestreak stepped away from his animated conversation with Bumblebee and Smokescreen to throw an arm around his shoulders. "Aw, ease up, Prowler. I don't see Optimus here, and if _Optimus Prime_ is cutting it a little close, I'm sure that you can cut Perceptor some slack. And speaking of slack, seriously, _relax_ a little! You're gonna get sore joints with how stiff you are right now! A little looseness won't kill you, contrary to whatever principles you live by. Seriously-"

"Be quiet, Bluestreak."

The talkative sniper raised his servos in surrender. "Ok, fine. Touchy subject. Just saying, you could use some therapy. Maybe you should hang out with someone looser and less uptight. You could talk about stuff, bond over some stories and a few cubes of energon. Someone like, say, Smokescreen."

The response of the one mentioned and the one being spoken to was instantaneous and unanimous - Smokescreen was jerked from his conversation with Bumblebee, and Prowl looked up sharply from his datapad: "_What_?"

Bumblebee took that moment to speak up: "Hey, Optimus just showed up."

Prowl's optics flickered towards the crowd, among which Optimus Prime stood, conversing with - surprisingly enough - Ultra Magnus.

"Huh, I guess ol' Mags _is_ feeling well enough to see you off today," said Bluestreak.

"Bluestreak," Prowl said, vocals carrying the barest hint of irritation. "If you can't be quiet for even a nanoklik, the least you could do is refer to an Autobot officer by his proper designation."

"Yeah, I'll miss you too, Prowl."

Bumblebee appeared to be suppressing his laughter as he muttered, "I'll just… go tell Optimus it's almost launch time. See ya, Smokey." After clapping the mentioned bot on the shoulder, the warrior disappeared into the crowd.

"And I think that's my cue to leave as well. Smokey? Hug for your big bro?"

Smokescreen smirked. "You sure you're not too old to be calling yourself my brother?" He dodged Bluestreak's good natured punch with a laugh, and the two mechs embraced.

Prowl simply nodded his helm lightly as Bluestreak turned to him. "Take care, Bluestreak."

Without warning, the one spoken to embraced Prowl in a tight hug. "Ah, take care _yourself_, Prowler. I'm not the one who's taking off on a potentially life-threatening mission into uncharted space. Do you have any idea how much of the universe we have yet to explore? A lot. It almost makes me wanna join in the mission with you…" Prowl cut Bluestreak off by gently but firmly pushing him away. The younger Praxian shrugged. "Anyway, what you gonna do? I'm sure I can count on you and Smokey to tell me all about it when you get back. Good luck, Prowl."

"I wish you providence as well, Bluestreak," Prowl said with a nod, and the barest hint of a smile.

Before he could disappear into the crowd, Bluestreak turned back to shoot two finger guns at his fellow Praxians. "Cybertron's counting on you, bros! Don't forget what I said about therapy, Prowl!" With that, the red and grey sniper disappeared into the bustling crowd.

* * *

"I can only be thankful, sir, that you are bringing Wheeljack with you."

Optimus almost smiled. "You would suffer no more had I left him behind, my friend."

Ultra Magnus grimaced subtly. "That is debatable." He paused. "I am truly honored that you give me command of the Autobots, Optimus."

"I know no better candidate."

"Well, I had assumed, given his impressive display of leadership while I was incapacitated, and the fact that I have yet to make it to full strength, that you would have chosen Bumblebee as acting leader of the Autobots."

Optimus nodded understandingly. "Bumblebee has the makings of a great leader, but he is still young. You have experience, my friend, and many Autobots have served under you. It would be better you led them, than a young warrior whom they hardly know. One orn yes, Bumblebee will succeed us both, but not this orn."

"I hope you will return, sir, before Bumblebee has reached his full maturity."

Optimus smiled slightly, and a low laugh rumbled from his chest. "It will be a long time yet before Bumblebee is ready, my friend. And I intend to be there when he is."

The subject of their conversation appeared from the crowd, bumping into a couple bots and apologizing sincerely. The elder Cybertronians watched him approach, Optimus with benevolence, and Ultra Magnus with a more assessing gaze.

If Bumblebee noticed this, he didn't call any attention to it. Instead, as he approached his two superiors, he said, "Hey, Ultra Magnus. It's good to see you out and about today, sir, if a little surprising."

Ultra Magnus looked down at his chassis, which remained rather dented. "Well," he said, with something akin to lightheartedness. "I could not, in all good consciousness, neglect to witness the dawning of a new era on Cybertron."

Bumblebee nodded. "Well I guess I'll pass on Prowl's good wishes then, since he thought he wouldn't be seeing you." Ultra Magnus inclined his helm in reply. The warrior then looked to Optimus, saying, "But, ah, I'm here to tell you it's nearly time for the launch, Optimus, sir."

The Prime's brows rose slightly as he checked his chronometer. "That it is, Bumblebee." He turned to Ultra Magnus and placed a servo on his shoulder. "Goodbye, old friend. I wish you the best of luck."

"You too, sir," Ultra Magnus replied with a nod.

As Optimus strode towards the launchpad, Bumblebee said, "I hope he'll be all right."

Ultra Magnus hummed thoughtfully. "The naïve response to that would be to say that Optimus is a Prime, and as such, he can survive anything Primus sends his way. However, that would be be completely understating the fact that Optimus is just a bot, no more than you or I - even his lifeforce is limited. But who can tell? Optimus has survived a great many things, and his spark has shown no signs of going out anytime soon."

Bumblebee chuckled dryly, rubbing the back of his helm. "Not exactly the encouraging response I was hoping for, commander. But thanks."

Soon, all seven of _the Axiom_ crew members - Red Alert, Ambulon, Wheeljack, Smokescreen, Prowl, Perceptor, and Optimus Prime - stood before the ship. The surrounding Cybertronians whom had been milling about the launchpad now fell silent before it as Optimus Prime stepped forward.

"Fellow Cybertronians, I am sure you are all aware of how we are here; we are here because the Allspark gave us forth. And it continued to bring other sparks into this world for millennia. That is until the war, the ghost of which will haunt our galaxy for centuries, forced us to send it away, far out of reach. Now the war is over, and we can once again begin rebuilding our race. And though our planet is healed, it cannot bring new life to our race until the Allspark is recovered. That is why we are here now, to find the Allspark and restore it to its place.

"I and my crew have chosen to and search for the Allspark. I must disillusion you with the words that there is no guarantee we will return. But rest assured, my fellow Cybertronians, that we will not stop searching. And Primus willing, we shall return with the Allspark.

"'Till all are one."

**A/N HardyGal: Red Alert is based off of the Transformers Animated version of the character. Unfortunately, we only see her in one episode before she and her team get their skidplates handed to them, but regardless, she made an impression on me. Her design was especially cool. Ambulon is based off of IDW Ambulon of course. Whether or not he shares the same backstory as his IDW counterpart… Well, you'll just have to wait and see, huh?**

**Ok, first off, I would like to apologize to MidnightPhantomFire. Wheeljack, Smokescreen, Prowl, and Optimus have remained in the crew roster, but I decided not to keep Soundwave. I found that I, my sister, and other readers were having trouble swallowing the plausibility of him being pulled out of the shadowzone, and more trouble with the plausibility of him collaborating with the Autobots. Not only that, what with his groundbridge abilities, Soundwave was a little too overpowered for me to handle.**

**Next, I would like to give a shout out to my sister, Neon, who does not have FFN account, and helped tons with rewriting this. A lot of the dialogue was written by her, as well as the entirety of Optimus's ending speech. She also helped me with the new crew roster, and practically begged that Perceptor be included (kind of like with Soundwave in the original fanfic, ironically enough). **

**Finally, I would like to thank all the people who read and enjoyed the fic before I started rewriting it. I am sorry that you needed to wait this long for an update, and I'm sorry that you're gonna have to endure the fact that I'm now rewriting this. Hopefully though, this is an improvement on the original version of this fanfic. Anyhoo, HardyGal OUT.**


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